


To be uncle (to be king)

by astheykissconsume



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Baby!Fili, Family, Gen, and, baby!Kili, but also fluff, mentions of - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 03:41:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2836781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astheykissconsume/pseuds/astheykissconsume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are times when Thorin looks at Fili and Kili and sees warriors. He sees dwarves young but determined, eager to prove themselves; all strong, lean muscle, nimble fingers and sharp eyes. He sees assets to the company and he is glad to have them by his side.</p><p>Other times, he sees nephews, and he wishes to Mahal himself that they were anywhere but here on this quest with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To be uncle (to be king)

There are times when Thorin looks at Fili and Kili and sees warriors. He sees dwarves young but determined, eager to prove themselves; all strong, lean muscle, nimble fingers and sharp eyes. He sees assets to the company and he is glad to have them by his side.

Other times, he sees nephews, and he wishes to Mahal himself that they were anywhere but here on this quest with him.

It is rare to see one without the other, and perhaps that is part of the problem. Fili and Kili have always been inseparable, since the day Kili learned to toddle or possibly even before - Thorin still remembers that time not so long ago, when Kili was a babe in arms and no-one, _no-one_ was as good at calming him as his older brother. When Dis rocked her youngest son, Kili screamed. When Thorin lifted him out of his swaddling and bounced him on his knee, Kili howled. But Fili, tiny Fili, all of five years old with pudgy cheeks still and a chin as smooth as his baby brother's - all Fili had to do was lean over and look down at the babe, and Kili would quieten. He would gaze up at his brother, entranced by his golden hair, reach for it and babble incoherent nonsense at him until Fili let him grip at a lock of it. Fili never minded, and in time that baby fist clutching his brother's hair had turned to toddler fingers gripping tight at Fili's hand as Fili pulled him around on unsteady legs. They bickered, of course, as all siblings must; but the arguments never lasted long, as though each brother could not settle until the fight had been resolved. That still happened to this day, and when night drew in they never failed to lay out their packs side-by-side, peas in a pod for all their physical contrast.

Their constant togetherness makes it difficult for Thorin to view them as warriors as he should, as he must, mostly because in itself it is so familiar. Never one without the other, a gold head (Frerin's) bent in mischief by a dark head (his own); the blue eyes of the Durin line gazing at him beside brown eyes so like their late father's. It would be easier on him, perhaps, if they were to be separated. It would certainly cut down on the levels of mischief, and it would enable him to view them properly, as fighting members of the company whom he must trust with his life, but never, never risk the quest for.

Thorin has the heart and strength to face down mighty orc armies, to take on monstrous wargs and march on Erebor to reclaim it, but he finds he does not have the heart to split Fili and Kili up. Aside from anything else, whilst they are fine individual warriors, they excel together. Anyway, Fili would fret for his younger brother and become distracted, and Kili would sulk and most likely sneak back to Fili's side the moment Thorin's back was turned. He knows his nephews of old.

They worry him, in truth. They are still so very young, even Fili, though he does tend to bear himself with a little more maturity than his brother. When the moment suits him, at least. Fili is not as hot-headed as Kili, but they share their love of mischief - and are equally responsible for it. Fili's post-prank face, however, is generally serene and calmly angelic, whereas Kili has never mastered the art of keeping the grin off his face, nor worked out how to widen his eyes innocently without the end result being as shifty as Bombur caught with his spoon in the cooking pot.

Thorin believes his worry to be private - he's never confided in any of the others, and he certainly wouldn't humiliate his heirs by fussing over them like dwarflings before the company. Nor would he damage his own image by doing so; he has a reputation to uphold, after all. So it comes as a surprise to him when a night arrives where Dwalin sits down beside him at the campfire during his watch and says without preamble, "They can look after themselves, you know."

Thorin looks at him sharply. Dwalin's face is indifferent in the shadows cast by the fire, his tone casual - and yet his words are loaded. Thorin frowns, feigns ignorance. "Who do you speak of?"

Dwalin eyes him. It's clear that his old friend and comrade is not fooled in the slightest, but he does pitch his voice lower though the company sleep on around them. "Your lads. Fili, Kili. They can look after themselves."

Thorin is silent. Some part of him protests automatically at the description of them as his - that same part which baulked awkwardly when his sister thrust a newborn Fili into his arms all those years ago, alarmed at the prospect of looking after this tiny being who depended on him even more than his people did. But another part of him stirs warmly, because _yes_ , they are his, they will always be his.

Dwalin is still looking at him. Thorin wants to be annoyed, because damn him, his thoughts are his own, but Dwalin has always been perceptive and he has always been by Thorin's side. Thorin can't fault him for caring in his own gruff way, and nor is he surprised that of all the company it would be Dwalin who would notice his concerns. Thorin glances at him, then gives a brief nod. "Aye. I know."

His gaze returns to the sleeping forms of his sister-sons; Kili's head has pillowed itself on Fili's shoulder in a habit embedded since childhood, and Fili's arm is flung up and around Kili in a not-quite-embrace which still manages to somehow tuck his little brother against his side.

He does know. They are fine warriors, truly. They are brave, determined and strong. They are skilled; they are trustworthy. He does them a disservice to doubt their abilities.

But it's not their abilities which concern him. It's his own difficulty in looking past their family ties. It's the worry that a day may come when he will have to look at Fili, his golden boy, and think: expendable. When Kili can no longer be his youngest charge, the nephew he rocked and sang to as a babe, but a warrior as disposable as any other.

Dwalin knows. Dwalin has probably always known. But he doesn't say as much. Instead, he prods at the fire, shifts on the log, settles down to see out the night watch by Thorin's side. He is of course aware of the way in which dark thoughts like to strike in the early hours, how they creep in unbidden - and how much worse they are when someone is alone.

A few yards away, Kili shifts in his sleep. He rolls over and presses himself up more securely against Fili's side, seeking out his older brother's warmth. Fili's arm settles around him, protective even in sleep. Thorin and Dwalin watch, and for all his unwelcome thoughts, Thorin finds a tiny smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"To be able to capture that moment," Dwalin murmurs, amused. "Like bairns in a cradle."

"I seem to remember you having rather a soft spot for them as dwarflings, old friend," Thorin reminds him. His dark thoughts slink away; the memory of Fili and Kili's childhood burns bright enough to chase away the blackness and he is thankful for it. "'Mister Dwalin' was something of a favourite, I believe."

"Aye, but it was your beard young Fili used to try to climb up," retorts Dwalin, smirking right back at Thorin. He pauses, then slyly adds, "And that braid there is the one Kili used to suck on, if I'm not mistaken."

Thorin grimaces, and Dwalin laughs. The company don't stir as they converse quietly, swapping memories and sharing bits and pieces from the past. Fili and Kili doze on oblivious, and for now, the darkness is kept firmly at bay.


End file.
